


The Tomato Incident

by backwards_wordsmith



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Fake Science, Gen, Lots of Mages, Magic, Magic Theory, Original Character(s), Original Female Characters - Freeform, Original Genderqueer Character - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Spymaster, Teleportation is Hard, When I Say Magic Is Weird I Mean That Magic Is Weird, crackfic, tomatoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backwards_wordsmith/pseuds/backwards_wordsmith
Summary: An unlucky teenage mageling gets distracted while practicing teleportation on tomatoes.Shaw doesn’t like to talk about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Scarjaw](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5204174) by [backwards_wordsmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/backwards_wordsmith/pseuds/backwards_wordsmith). 



> It was so big I had to split it into small chapters. It was supposed to be a little crackfic... what have I done...?

Portal magic was a complicated thing. It was incredibly easy to mess it up, and a bad portal often resulted in fatal or otherwise traumatic consequences. Missing limbs, _switched_ limbs, fusions between organic and inorganic material... Sometimes, fusions between organic materials. That was an ugly one.

Mordu knew all of this. It was why they were practicing so much. Their instructor had said that they could have graduated to living organisms already, but Mordu was too worried about the potential consequences an unstable portal could have on one of those poor rats. They didn’t even want to think about teleporting a living being until they could perfectly execute a teleportation on a non-living entity.

They were still practicing with non-living organic materials. Fruits were easy to come by, relatively cheap, and if Mordu happened to accidentally fuse them into a wall, the worst that could happen would be a room that smelled incessantly of tomato sauce. Not a big deal, considering what could happen with a living organism and a teleportation gone wrong.

One of the best ways to practice, Mordu found, was to teleport a tomato to the next room over. They couldn’t see the room, but they knew generally where everything was and could plan a safe destination for their tomatoes. They were pretty proud, actually, of the growing pile on the table set against the northern wall of that room. Eventually they’d have enough to make a big batch of meaty tomato sauce, and that would give them a great way to practice frost enchantments to keep it all.

They still had a pretty good-sized pile of tomatoes left to teleport, however. After this, Mordu thought, they could go to their instructor and start on living organisms. But first...

“Breathe slowly,” Mordu murmured to themself. “Visualize the point of origination. Be aware of it within the spatial bounds of your positive flux. Wait, shit, it’s the negative flux.” They breathed deeply, held it for five seconds, and tried again. “The point of origination. The spatial bounds of your _negative_ flux. Okay. Now, visualize the destination. Be aware of it within the spatial and temporal bounds of your _positive_ flux. Bind them to make a path and create an opposition-interference circuit between positive and negative. Feel the pull. Careful... Careful,” they reminded themself in a mutter. “Carefully regulate the circuit and feed it a continuous short-wave alchemized arcane transmission. Good. Hold it like that. Work out the knots and smooth it out to a nice, low pressure.”

Speaking out loud always helped them concentrate, and Mordu was far past being embarrassed. Most of their classmates could incant mentally by now but Mordu was determined not to let that interfere with their own spellcasting.

As they spoke to themself, using one hand to help manipulate the magic they pulled from their own arcane core, the tomato began to emit a faint glow. Grinning at the sight of the beginnings of a successful teleportation spell, Mordu began the next step.

“Increase the density of the arcane feed. Stretch the circuit and widen it. Loosen it, nice and smooth.” The glow hardened to a thin arcane field surrounding the tomato. Faint, tiny runes circled it slowly, like the notes on a sheet of music. “Low pressure, slowly increasing...” The runes flashed suddenly and Mordu frowned, working to decrease the light radiating from the tomato. “A little slower. Yes, like that. I’ve got it... I’ve got it... a little more...”

With a triumphant grin, Mordu closed the hand that held the tomato as they snapped the other high into the air, opening a channel between origination and destination. The arcane energies around the tomato began to pull it through a hole the size of a pin, safely warping it within the confines of a space frozen in both spatial and temporal terms. Just as the tomato began to dematerialize, there was a tremendous crash from the apartment above Mordu.

They yelped and started violently, their concentration completely broken at the critical point of re-entry of the tomato into the material plane. With a flash and a bang like a gunshot, the tomato vanished. 

Mordu stared at their empty hand in absolute dismay. “My tomato,” they said quietly. Horrified realization dawn on their face and they rushed into the other room. The bowl of tomatoes remained undisturbed. They sniffed the air cautiously - no tomato sauce. They inspected the wall closest to the bowl of tomatoes. No odd discolorations.

They stepped away from the wall, frowning, their brow furrowed. Where could they have _possibly_ sent the tomato? They hadn’t had any thoughts in mind besides the tomato and its bowled brethren. Not, at least, any thoughts that hadn’t been fleeting conjectures of an awake brain. Except...

“Oh, no,” Mordu moaned quietly, covering their face with both hands. They could feel their cheeks heating. “Oh, Light, no.”

\--


	2. Chapter 2

He’d been thoroughly distracted by Luciana and her troublesome ideas when he’d returned to their shared chambers the night before. Now, however, Anduin held the tomato in his hand, staring at it with a stern frown as though to intimidate it into speaking. He wasn’t Varian by any stretch of the imagination, but he had certainly inherited the man’s famous glare.

The tomato remained stubbornly silent, and Anduin sighed. “You said you ate it?”

“Half of it, yeah,” Luciana replied from where she lounged easily on the bed. Like a great cat she was sprawled comfortably over various pillows and piled blankets, a book in one hand, hanging loosely as she read it. “Then it grew back. Like a troll.”

“You’ve eaten half a living troll?”

“Fuck your sassy mouth.”

Anduin snorted a laugh at her phrasing. With a thoughtful hum, his gaze returned to the tomato. “I don’t know where it came from, honestly. No one gave it to me.” He wondered briefly if some thankful patient of his had slipped it into his pocket during his hours in the Cathedral. It would certainly seem appropriate to a well-meaning citizen. A continuously regenerating tomato _would_ be useful in a castle full of hundreds that needed to be fed, and it was certainly the kind of thing an adventurer might come across in their travels. Still, he had to verify.

“Bring it to Shaw,” Luciana suggested as Anduin opened his mouth to speak.

His mouth curled into a fond smile. “I was just about to let you know I’m calling SI:7 in.”

“They can come in. I don’t mind.”

“You’re completely naked.”

“... Yeah?” she said, half-questioning. She looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. Anduin could only shake his head with a mute smile.

SI:7 was always quick to respond to a summons from their King. Within an hour Shaw had been briefed, and had called in four of his best mages and six of his top agents, each with their own specialized skill set. Anduin had handed over the suspect tomato, though he’d been tempted to bite into it to see if it really tasted as fresh as Luciana claimed. He’d also been forced to keep it in his pocket lest she eat it again. Despite his admonishments about dangerous, unknown magic, she’d tried.

“You can so irresponsible sometimes,” he told her.

“I’m tough, and you’re a healer. If it does something to me, I’ll resist it and you’ll fix it. Besides that, it tastes deliciously fresh. It would be worth it.”

“You can get a different tomato from the kitchens. A normal tomato.”

“But that one’s here now. And it tastes good.”

He knew that she was teasing him, as always, from the lopsided grin on her disfigured face. He resisted it, long used to her ways, but he did lean down to kiss her before leaving the bedroom to greet Shaw. He’d had to dodge her clever hands that had reached out to pull him down to her naked body. Shaw would have been kept waiting at least an hour if Anduin had been caught. He did have the right to keep his Spymaster waiting, but he didn’t see any need to exercise that right. At least, not today.

“We’ll find the source,” Shaw said, his expression and tone both completely inscrutable from years and years of practice. “In the meantime, Your Grace, I would suggest remaining with the Queen. If there is any imminent danger to you, she’ll hear it coming long before anyone else. She’s on a completely different level from any agents I could assign you.”

“I know. Like she’d ever let me forget.” Anduin sighed, smiling ruefully. “Thank you, Shaw. Keep me updated.”

“Of course, my King.”

With a brusque nod in place of a salute, Shaw left the antechamber. The guards let him pass without a word. They knew very well who he was. Anduin, in the meantime, returned to the bedroom.

“So?” Luciana asked, not looking away from her book. She’d shifted so that her head was hanging off the edge of the bed, the book held in the air so she could keep reading.

“They’ll figure it out. He suggested I stay with you, since you’re so much better than his agents.”

Luciana grinned, showing off white teeth that were far too wolfish to belong to any pure human. “You’re damn fucking right I am.”

“That looks mildly uncomfortable,” Anduin said. Her eyes tracked him as he moved across the room to the hearth, intending to add a heavy log to feed its flames.

“It kinda is.”

“Why not move?”

“The blood’s rushing to my brain.”

“That sounds uncomfortable.”

“I like it.”

“Uh huh.”

Her unnaturally bright eyes followed him until he was at the edge of the bed, looking down at her. “You stand there much longer and I’m gonna make your blood rush to a head.”

“Which one?”

“I dunno, you crowned pile of sassy shit. Which one do you like more?”

\--


	3. Chapter 3

Mordu had tried, after their disastrous attempt at teleporting the unfortunate Lost Tomato, to move on. They had started by viciously scrubbing down their tiny bathroom, hoping it would be sufficiently distracting. Then they’d had some tea, and a piece of vanilla and blackberry cake, and then they’d tried to return to their practice. 

But the thought of the Lost Tomato, and where it might have ended up, had instilled such an incessant feeling of panic that their hands had shook hard enough to drop three tomatoes in a row.

After their brief attempt to return to normalcy, Mordu had scoured the Stormwind City radio channels. They listened for any breaking news involving what might have been the destination of the Lost Tomato. Hearing nothing, they’d left their tiny apartment in the Mage Quarter of Stormwind in a flurry of hastily tied boots and a half-buttoned hooded coat.

Mordu walked quickly down the winding stairwell in the center of the apartment complex, designed for mages by some whack job with bright ideas about what mages actually liked. They almost fell a few times in their hurry. Thankfully the banister was well-placed. By the time they reached the ground floor their hands were shaking. It wasn’t from the cold autumn wind. They shoved their hands into their pockets, dodged a cackling Hallow’s End pumpkin that floated around the vestibule, and stomped outside.

The wind bit at their face the second they stepped outside, but they pressed on. The Blue Recluse would be a good place to start. Resting portal mages, adventurers, drunkards and gossipers all spent their coin there, among less savoury folk and even a handful of Glory Seekers and off-duty Royal Guards. 

News ran wild within the confines of the tavern and Mordu could easily take advantage of that. It was said that people in _The Blue Recluse_ would know of something even before the Spymaster of Stormwind. It was simply how the city’s information channels formed around the interesting characters that gathered for drink and good food.

Mordu had to shoulder their way into the tavern on the first floor of the building. They left their coat at the door’s enchanted coat racks, which floated upwards out of the way as soon as Mordu’s coat was secured on a hook. They avoided the bar stools full of drunk construction workers betting their wages on the ram races being projected onto the white screen above the bar. Ducking suddenly to avoid an accidentally flung flagon of mead, they waved their hand to the bartender.

“Food?” they shouted over the noise of the workers.

The bartender pointed wordlessly and Mordu followed it until their eyes landed on the stairs to the second floor. Of course. The bottom floor was for drinking, the top was for eating. They waved to the bartender before turning to wade through the raucous crowds.

The second floor was quieter and the patrons less densely packed. Mordu found a server, handed over a few silver, and sat at a table in the corner away from the stairs. From there, they could see down the first staircase, across the second floor, through the door of the kitchens, and into the hallway leading to the private dining rooms. Apparently one of those rooms was frequented by Queen Luciana herself. The thought conjured a coil of dread and giddy excitement in Mordu’s stomach.

The server returned almost immediately with a heavy bowl of thick stew. It was accompanied with a roasted quail, dismembered and fried on a skewer, and a mug of mulled apple cider. The house special for the night, Mordu guessed, thanking the server with a brief smile and a dozen copper pieces. The server brightened, smiled back, and turned to attend to another table.

The stew had tender beef and chicken, soft potatoes, and vegetables cooked to near perfection. The apple cider was warm, well spiced with cinnamon and mageroyal and a hint of citrus. Mordu was hard pressed to concentrate on the conversations flowing around them instead of the delicious food. When they bit into the tender quail they nearly forgot about the Lost Tomato completely. The bird had a delicious sweet and sour sauce, obviously Pandaren and Stormwind fusion cuisine.

“... In a state of emergency.”

Mordu concentrated on that voice, coming from a patron sitting a few tables away. Masculine to look at, he sat with two others, one in a robe with the cowl over their head. Mordu couldn’t see their face.

“I heard about that,” his non-robed companion said, nodding past a mouthful of bread soaked in stew. “My guild mate is close with some of their agents. Shaw’s got all sorts going in and out of the Keep right now. Any idea what for?”

“It’s probably to do with the King sequestering himself in the castle with the Queen.”

“Safest place for him to be.”

“Safest place for _anyone_ to be. Except Horde. Unlucky bastards only wish she was an orc.” They shared a laugh at that. “Seriously, though. I’m a bit worried. King’s alone with the Queen, hiding, as it were, and Shaw’s got his best people in and out, looking for something. Not an ideal situation."

“Have they doubled the guards yet?” 

“No, I haven’t been called in. Though I know they’ve condensed the day shift into the Royal Wing. Less presence in the outer wings, more in the heart - if there’s some plan going down, it’ll look easier to infiltrate the Keep, so whoever’s trying will move in when they see the chance.” 

“And then they move in too far and get caught.” 

“Right. Or the wallcrawlers hear them.” 

“Wallcrawlers?” 

“The SI:7?” he said. “I’ve explained this half a dozen times, Sie. They crawl around inside the walls, listening for trouble.” 

“Oh.” Sie nodded and shoved a handful of quail meat into her mouth. 

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” The two speakers looked at their companion, who moved only to pick up their flagon. 

“If you say so,” the man said, obviously doubtful. 

Their hands shaking again, Mordu quickly ate most of their stew and their quail, and swallowed the cider as quickly as possible. Though they felt sick to their stomach, they didn’t want to waste a good meal. Especially with what little allowance they got from the Mage’s Conclave every month. 

\-- 


	4. Chapter 4

It was just after noon and for once they were both relaxed. Their daily meetings postponed, the court put at on hold, and the afternoon outings canceled, they had little to do except entertain their sons. The twins took full advantage of having both parents available for play. Bolvar, currently on Luciana’s shoulders, was yanking at her hair to direct her. Despite their growing age he and his brother still treated her like a jungle gym. 

Anduin suspected and hoped that they would remain so comfortable with their mother. Even if the world was ending, she would protect them. As long as they let her close, they would be safe from anything and anyone who would do them harm.

Shaking his head to clear the unpleasant thoughts, Anduin watched as Luciana goose-stepped around the room, her arms held out robotically. Shauna, her aging boxer terrier, danced around her feet and yapped playfully up at Bolvar. Every few steps she would nip at Luciana’s knees and feet, and at one point tried to jump up to get Bolvar’s foot.

“Why are you biting my knees?” Luciana laughed. “Dumb dog. Who’s a dumb dog?” she said in baby-talk. “You’re a dumb dog!”

“I wanna play hide and seek,” Alaric piped up from the couch. He’d been climbing over its back, pretending to be a cat. “But Mama, you have to be a hider, because you can smell too good.”

“Alright, so who’s gonna be seeker?” Luciana asked. “Hey, I think Papa should be seeker!”

“Yeah, Papa, you gotta count to sixty and then come and find us!” Alaric said.

“I wanna be seeker!” Bolvar cried, struggling to get off Luciana’s shoulders. She quickly reached up to catch him under the arms and deposit him safely on the couch. She lifted him so easily - Anduin wondered if Bolvar even weighed enough for her to notice.

“You can be seeker for the second game,” Luciana said.

“Okay.” Bolvar agreed easily to this compromise. Anduin could remember how, just a few months ago, any sort of compromise would earn a tantrum. He smiled proudly at Bolvar who, without knowing why he was smiling, just grinned right back at him.

Luciana looked at Anduin, then looked at the door, and raised both brows at him. “Why don’t you go into the antechamber to count? And we’ll hide in the other rooms.”

“That’s too much space to search,” Anduin replied, already moving to the antechamber.

“That just makes it more fun! Hey, why don’t you use Shauna? She’ll help you. Isn’t that fair, you two?”

“That’s fair,” Alaric said.

“Yeah,” Bolvar agreed.

“Great. Papa, go count, and we’ll hide.”

He smiled and obediently went into the antechamber. Just as Luciana had indicated, there was someone waiting for him. “Your Majesty,” the rogue said, bowing their head.

“Report.”

“There is no evidence of tampering with the tomato. The continuous regeneration seems to be related to teleportation temporal interference. That is, the magic in the tomato that causes it to regenerate is the same magic used in portals to protect people going through them.”

“I see. So someone teleported the tomato into my pocket?”

“Shaw believes so.”

“Why, though?”

“He has several theories. So far he’s ruled out the Reclaimers - he doesn’t believe the traitor group has anything to do with this because their activity patterns don’t match up with the tomato. It may be meant to intimidate or threaten, but there is no indication of any spies or outside groups moving close enough to Stormwind’s walls.”

“They’d have to be within range of the Cathedral, and strong or cunning enough to get past all of the magical activity inside it,” Anduin said.

“Exactly. It was suggested that it might simply be a prank, related to Hallow’s End festivities. Shaw has not ruled anything else out so far and the investigation is ongoing.”

“Have it focus on the Mage Quarter and the students in the Tower. Also see if there’s been any similar activity in the graveyards behind the Cathedral, and with the Tushui emissaries. It could be a cultural thing.” He shrugged one shoulder, almost casual. “I didn’t feel any threat beyond the usual wounded warrior while I was in the Cathedral yesterday. I don’t think it was a malicious act.”

“Understood. I’ll let Shaw know. Is there anything else, Your Grace?”

Anduin thought for a brief moment. “How long have we been in here?” he asked.

“A little over a minute, Sire.”

“Alright. That’s all for now.”

“Understood.”

“Dismissed.”

Quickly, Anduin returned to the bedchamber. “Here I come!” he called. He heard a murmur from the closet. Shauna, sitting patiently beside the antechamber door, perked her ears at it. “Ready, girl?” he asked. She looked up at him, ears up. “Let’s go. Where’s Bolvar?”

Her tail wagged, swishing slowly on the carpet.

“Where’s Alaric? Where’s Mama?”

She stood, trotting to the closet with her nose out. She sniffed at the space under the door, and Anduin heard a shuffle from inside. Smiling to himself, he tutted to Shauna to get her attention and waved at her to recall her. “Who’s that I hear?” he called in a sing-song voice. “Did I hear a little boy in the... bathroom?”

He heard a giggle, muffled by hands or a sleeve or some article of clothing found in the closet. Shauna went to investigate the door again.

“Is that a little boy I hear... under the bed?”

He heard, faintly, a voice from the twins’ bedroom. “Papa’s stupid.”

Anduin covered his mouth to smother his laughter, knowing that Luciana was probably biting back her own chuckle. “Is that a little boy I hear in the... closet?” he asked, stomping towards the closet so that whoever was inside would hear him coming. Pausing with his hand at the ready, he shooed Shauna away from the door and then flung it open.

In a flurry of clothes and shadow and powerful physical mass, Luciana bounded out of the closet. Anduin backtracked quickly with a startled squawk, but two strong hands caught him at the waist to keep him from escaping. He could hardly register her movements before she had a hand in his hair, her mouth on his. He grabbed at her shoulders for stability, her momentum carrying them back a few steps. When they settled he cupped her jaws, enjoying the kiss immensely.

“They’re both in their bedroom,” Anduin said when Luciana pulled back slightly to let him breathe.

“Yep,” she replied.

“Every single time,” he sighed, giving her a short kiss. “They think I won’t find them down there?”

“Papa’s stupid,” she murmured against his mouth, obviously smiling cheekily.

“Mama’s predictable,” he replied. With a hot hand against the side of his neck, Luciana pressed another kiss to his mouth, effectively silencing him for the moment.

\--


	5. Chapter 5

Night had fallen several hours ago, but the darkness was little more than a small inconvenience to the people Shaw employed. With a wave he dismissed his agents, sending them scattering to relay his new orders.

“It’s not the Reclaimers,” he said quietly. “It’s not the Horde. It’s not the Pandaren and there aren’t any teachers in the Mage Tower using tomatoes to show their magelings how to make a portal.”

“It could be a Hallow’s End prank,” Renzik suggested, casually toying with one of his daggers.

“I don’t think so. It’s not really part of our tradition. Nor Gilneas, nor Ironforge.”

“Gnomes are weird.”

“Wouldn’t be them. Not with a plain tomato. It would be some crazy thing with gears.”

“An unnecessary amount of fancy shit gears.”

“Right. No, it’s not a prank, either.” Shaw’s brow furrowed and he glared at the reports waiting on his desk. “And there are no leads on the tomato’s regenerative abilities. No one’s working on any related projects in the city and there haven’t been any noteworthy mages coming in from the other capitals in the past four days.”

“What about un-noteworthy?”

“A rookie getting past all of the Holy magic being flung about in the Cathedral? I don’t think so.”

“Fair point. It’s not traitors, spies, pranksters, foreigners, or anything else we can think of. And the tomato’s still weird. Am I missing anything?”

“No.” Shaw growled, aggravated, and shuffled the report to clear a space on his desk. Grabbing a spare paper, he scrawled a few rough notes with a heavy pen that had a retractable shiv in the other end. “It doesn’t make any sense. Who would teleport a tomato into the King’s pocket? Who _could_? And why?”

“It’s always the why,” Renzik said.

“But who...?” he muttered. “Who in this city would want to do this, and is skilled enough to send it - in one piece, mind - through the Cathedral’s magical atmosphere?”

“Could it have been sent after the King left the Cathedral?”

“Possible, but unlikely. This is Anduin Wrynn we’re talking about. There’s no way he wouldn’t have sensed that kind of magical activity so close to his own person unless he was surrounded on all sides by enough magic to kill an Aspect.”

“And he didn’t pick up any threat, either.”

“Nothing a wounded warrior wouldn’t let off.” Shaw rubbed absently at his greying goatee. He heard Renzik take a swig of his drink. His mug clinked when he set it down. “I don’t get this.”

“And it’s gonna bug you until you find the mage that did it.”

“Tracking mages,” Shaw murmured. “You track mages with other mages.”

“You track with bloodhounds, not mages. They ain’t hunters.”

“No, but they’re sensitive to magic. Much more than any hounds we have. If they can follow the scent of the tomato’s magic...”

“They can find the source of the scent,” Renzik finished.

“I need you to find me some mages. See if Starred Commander Flameheart is still in Stormwind. She won’t mind a little hide and seek in Stormwind, especially if it’s for the King. Get Kearnen to go to the Glory Seekers for Afnan Siegebreaker and Sab the Lion. Send Sully to the Mage’s Conclave for the usual consultants. We’ll let the Queen know of our hunt. She might be able to help, if she’s willing. I don’t know the limits of her sensitivity but she’s a wolf like Varian, and that means something.”

“Right-o, Bossman.”

Renzik left in silence, leaving Shaw alone in his office. Staring down at the names he’d written, he frowned. “Who the hell planted a tomato in the King’s pocket?” he murmured, crossing his arms. He reached up to rub at his goatee. “And why? Why a tomato? Why in his coat pocket? Why now? Why, why, why, Light fucking damn you. When I find you...” He trailed off. “I can’t decide what I’ll do with you for all this trouble. And if you’re a kid, the Queen’ll probably try to adopt you. Is that your play?” He scoffed. It sounded almost like a laugh. “It’s a known weakness she has, after all.”

“What’s a weakness?”

Shaw glanced at Renzik, who had returned for his drink. “The Queen. Everyone knows she likes kids.” 

“She basically adopted that kid Slim from Westfall, right? And her squire. And that other one, Benjamin? The scrawny monk.”

Shaw’s face went blank.

“I know that look,” Renzik said as he left, drink in hand this time. He sounded positively gleeful. “Go get ‘em, Bossman.”

\--


	6. Chapter 6

“It makes sense,” Luciana mused. With a _twang_ , she pulled open a link of the metal mesh in her hands. She’d already gone through a third of it. Anduin was forever thankful that junior blacksmiths had to practice mesh for their chainmail pieces. “Magic. Teleportation practice with tomatoes? Obviously a junior, hasn’t gotten to the rats yet. Getting through the Cathedral’s atmosphere, though. That’s a big red light.”

“What kind of mageling has the power to do that?” Anduin asked, eyeing Luciana’s hands as they tensed. She pulled open another link in the mesh. The muscles in her forearms jumped. Anduin swallowed.

“The kind that obsessively practices teleporting tomatoes because they don’t want to hurt the rats,” Luciana said. “That shit they put in the tomato seems accidental to me. That’s some complex magic, and completely useless on a single fucking fruit.”

“Might it be a demonstration of power?” Shaw asked.

“Nah, I don’t think so. If they could get it into the Cathedral, that’s demonstration enough,” Luciana replied.

“They might not be that powerful - simply exceptionally skilled in portal magic,” Anduin said. “Which is why they’re practicing so much with fruits before moving onto the next stage. They’re certainly powerful enough for the rats, but they’re still on the tomatoes, which means that they’re taking their time to get it right.”

“Or they’ve got an obsessive disorder,” Shaw suggested.

“So we’re looking for a young junior mageling who recently bought a fuckton of tomatoes and who cleans their bathroom so much you could perform a heart and lung transplant in there without gloves on,” Luciana said.

“Seems like it,” Anduin sighed, leaning back in his chair. “This is all assuming that it was on purpose.”

“Wasn’t it?” Luciana asked. “Seems like it. The hell would you want to put a tomato in the King’s pocket in the middle of the Cathedral of Light unless it was to show off and get his attention, and mine? I mean, everyone on Azeroth’s green backside knows it - I like kids. Kids like me. If you get my attention and you’re a kid, probably, it’ll be good for you.”

“I thought that might be the case,” Shaw said. “I called in two Glory Seeker mages on contract to investigate the Mage’s Conclave, the Tower, and the Academy of Magic.”

“Good thinking,” Anduin said, nodding to Shaw. The Spymaster briefly bowed his head, graciously accepting the praise.

“I’ve also put Sully in contact with my consultants in the area,” he said. “And while Starred Commander Flameheart was unavailable, she suggested that I inquire if the Queen had time to spare for the hunt, knowing how sensitive she is.”

“She suggested that?” Luciana said, casually ripping the mesh, each link creaking and popping as it opened like the maw of some hellish metal best. She went slowly, likely relishing every second of it.

“She did,” Shaw said. “I have a letter from her, if Her Majesty would like it.”

“So her suggestion confirmed your idea,” Anduin said. “Lucy?”

Luciana shrugged one heavy shoulder, letting it drop as she held the mesh up for inspection. Satisfied, she swung her booted feet off the table and stood, stretching her chest and shoulders with her arms out. “I’ll take a sniff,” she said. “Get Jillian and Vic and her pets to go and hang around the lower Mage Quarter while I’m in the school side.”

“Victoria’s legs aren’t fully calibrated yet,” Anduin said.

“She’ll consult. Her pets will go with Jill. None of them will mind. The dogs love Jill.”

“What about Lynch?” Anduin asked.

“He’s... busy,” Luciana replied. “Anyway. If my nose is gonna be full of fucking tomato for the next week, someone else is gonna suffer with me.”

“You think it’s going to take that long?” Shaw asked, rising with Anduin.

“If I’m gonna sniff a tomato’s ass end to find some brat, you can bet I’m gonna sniff it good enough to get a weeklong nose full.”

“I’ll have it brought here immediately,” Shaw said.

“We’ll be in our rooms,” Anduin said, giving Shaw the dismissal he was awaiting.

“Your Grace,” he said, nodding to Anduin. “Your Majesty,” he said, doing the same for Luciana.

“Get the kitchens to send up something bloody,” Luciana called over her shoulder as she strode easily from the room. “My teeth are itching.”

“You’ll ruin your appetite for dinner,” Anduin said, following her.

“You’ll help me work it back up.”

“Lucy!”

Shaw waited for them to leave the room before turning and slipping away. Smothering the quirk at the corner of his mouth, he nodded to the agent waiting for him. “Anything?”

“Not yet, but the contracts from the Glory Seekers believe that if anything is to be found, it’ll be in the Academy.”

“Make sure they search the other places just as well. If they miss something I can’t reprimand them, but they’re Glory Seekers. They have a reputation to uphold. Remind them of that.”

“Understood.”

\--


	7. Chapter 7

They’d feigned illness to avoid going to class for the day. Though their instructors had shown concern, Mordu had denied the offer to fetch a healer. Instead, they’d sequestered themself in their apartment with fresh tomato soup and tomato salad and tomato juice and Redridge-style tomato chili and a radio.

According to rumours they’d picked up when two classmates came to check up on them, the activity in the Keep was calming down. There were many people in the city that said it was just an exercise; practice for when a real threat to the Royals cropped up. 

There were others saying that the SI:7 headquarters were practically empty, meaning that not all was well in Stormwind . Nearly all of their agents were on assignment, leaving only a skeleton crew to maintain information networks and contact with people outside the capital. 

Mordu really tried very hard not to let it get to them. They hadn’t slept last night, so when their two classmates saw them, it looked quite like they were actually sick. It also meant that Mordu was legitimately exhausted and fell asleep twice while trying to eat their tomato salad.

With a shiver, Mordu pulled their robe tighter around their shoulders. They’d adjusted the heating system, and the runes on the walls and in the floors radiated a gentle heat that circulated with additional runic magic. They still felt cold. Maybe it was the anxiety and the dread that had been slowly overtaking them since the day before. They would make a terrible criminal. Two days after the crime and they’d be turning themselves in just to relieve the stress of waiting to be caught.

It probably wasn’t illegal to teleport a tomato into someone’s pocket. Even if that someone was the King of Stormwind, Anduin Wrynn himself. But it had thus far caused a lot of very important people to be very concerned and very busy, and Mordu was very much waiting to be executed - though they knew they’d probably just get detention and canal-cleaning detail for a week. Maybe a month, at most. Accidents happened with mages in training. They had insurance for these things. Mordu couldn’t be the only one to accidentally teleport fruit somewhere awkward.

Though they were probably the only one to do it to the King of Stormwind.

With a shudder, Mordu stood and shuffled over to their tiny ReFrigiderator. Pulling out a bottle of cranberry juice, they poured some into a glass and added a bit of water. Holding their hand over the glass, fingers spread, they incanted mentally. Too tired to speak and too mentally drained to be able to think more than one thing at a time, they mixed and then carbonated the drink. It produced a satisfying fizz about an inch thick. It quickly died down, and Mordu tested a sip.

“Not my best,” they murmured, closing the ReFrigiderator with their hip. They shuffled back to their tiny kitchen table, absently glancing out the window. They froze. Two adults who were most certainly not of the Academy were talking to a handful of students congregated on the cobblestone path outside Mordu’s apartment building.

Mordu whirled around. They left their drink on the table, messily sloshing some of it out of the glass, and dashed up two stairs to their bedroom. Slamming the door behind them, they dressed in the warmest clothes they owned and shoved whatever they grabbed into a worn out, tiny little suitcase. It was enchanted, but it only held about twice its mass. They’d been meaning to update it with their new lessons on spatially anomalous containers.

Yanking a hat over their hair and the hood of their winter robe over their eyes, they shut down the heating runes and turned off the werelights and locked the apartment door behind them.

“Where ya headed?” a young gnome squeaked from the banister as Mordu nearly tripped down the stairs. 

“Out,” they replied in a rush. “See you later.” Mordu looked at the gnome only long enough to see a bright pink coif, coiled tightly like a soft-serve ice cream cone, before they were hopping down two stairs at a time.

“Bye!”

\--


	8. Chapter 8

Afnan the Siegebreaker and Sab the Lion were not generally interested in things like this. Low-level contract quests from SI:7 could have been completed by any number of less powerful mages. But they had a reputation, and it could get them into places that might have otherwise been inaccessible.

Like this apartment. “You’re sure this is the one?” Afnan asked. “The heating runes are completely deactivated. No one’s been in here for a while.”

“This cranberry drink is still fizzing,” Sab said. “And the tomato soup is pretty fresh.”

“How would you know? It’s soup.”

“Master of the Ways,” Sab replied with a smug smile. “Just because you never went to Halfhill for anything except flirting with that old Pandaren lady...”

“Shut up,” Afnan whined. “What the fel is with all this tomato stuff, anyway? Tomato salad, tomato juice, tomato soup, tomato chili, tomato sauce, dried tomatoes, tomato puree, tomato paste, actual tomatoes... Are these grilled tomatoes?” Afnan raised a grilled cherry tomato to her mouth and popped it in, chewing thoughtfully. “Not bad.”

“Look at how clean this bathroom is!” Sab called, poking his head into the bathroom. “You could eat out of the toilet!”

“Why don’t you try that, Master of the Ways? I’m sure you could make a mean soup in there. Extra flavour.”

“Oh, shut up. Seriously, though. Whoever lives here is super good with keeping it clean. Look at this. It’s sparkling, for Light’s sake.”

“Right. See about the bedroom.”

“What, while you sit on the balcony and enjoy the view?”

“They have a balcony?” Afnan demanded, aghast. “When I was a student you’ve live in this apartment with four other people and one window, and no ReFrigiderator. A balcony,” they scoffed.

“That’s because Frigids weren’t invented yet when you were a student.”

“You shut your goddamn mouth. Disrespectful brat.”

Afnan opened the balcony door and peered around. With a flick of her fingers she sent a probe into the space around the balcony. Feeling nothing out of the ordinary, she layered a net over the space that would illuminate recent magical activity. Only the threaded ends of the net nearest to the door were lit.

She unraveled the net and remade it inside the kitchen. It lit up the room with a harsh purple light, and she winced and waved it away. Blinking rapidly, she laid another net over the wall.

Seeing the focus point of the magic, she went to the small room behind the kitchen. A sitting room with a radio and a small screen with a projector hooked up to local cable broadcasts. She turned on the radio.

_“... And there’s been no news from the Keep about any of this strange activity. We’re still waiting on our informants in the castle for any new information on the King’s whereabouts.”_

_“This seems to be taking up a lot of resources.”_

_“Yeah, tell me about it. I haven’t seen the SI:7 this riled up since the Defias first came in.”_

_“I hope that whatever it is, it’s worth this much trouble. Otherwise there might be an audit. I mean, this is taxpayer coin they’re using!”_

_“Well, we know the Royal Family is generally good these days with that sort of thing. They have yet to be wasteful - even their wedding was relatively inexpensive compared to previous royal anniversaries.”_

_“That’s true. Speaking of Royals, what about the Queen? What’s she been up to in all this?”_

_“Apparently she was seen moving_ outside _the castle, towards the Trade District. We think she might be headed towards the Mage Quarter, where there’s been some unusual activity.”_

_“Probably related to the SI:7 and what’s going on in the castle.”_

_“Most likely. If there is a threat to the King, the Queen would definitely be the one to find it and neutralize it. I mean, we’re talking about a berserker, here! She’s even rumoured to have the same strange powers as the old King, now Highlord of Stormwind, Varian Wrynn himself.”_

_“Varian Wrynn is said to be Lo’Gosh, the reborn Wolf Ancient.”_

_“I think it’s more likely that he’s a chosen one of the Wolf. Didn’t they see Goldrinn at his shrine in Hyjal?”_

_“You’re right. But if the rumours are true, then there’s a wolf on the hunt in Stormwind.”_

_“Could our Queen really be described as anything less?”_

_“I don’t know, what about a rampaging forest bear?”_

Afnan turned off the radio in the middle of the laughter of the two hosts. Looking around at the tiny room, she laid out another net, this time keeping it weak so it wouldn’t blind her. It didn’t need to be sensitised any more than that. Immediately, she saw the pattern.

“Sab!”

“What?”

“Someone’s been practicing a lot of immediate-range teleportation in here and the kitchen.”

“And someone ran out of here real fast. You saw the spilled cranberry fizz,” Sab said, joining Afnan in the sitting room. “Light, look at that concentration!”

“It goes through the wall to the kitchen table.”

Sab poked his head around the wall. “To a bowl of tomatoes,” he said, his voice muffled. He straightened and looked at Afnan with his eyebrows raised. “Who’s registered to this apartment?”

“Um.” Afnan pulled a rumpled packet of papers from her coat’s inner pocket. “Mordu Ali, from Redridge. Fifteen years old. Recently entered a specialized course packet for portal mages. Supposed to be in level four teleportation practice. Apparently he... uh, they, have been refusing level four on the grounds that they haven’t practiced level three enough yet.”

“Level three is... uh, I guess fruit?”

“Non-living organic. Level one is small inorganic pieces, level two is large inorganic. Level three is non-living organic materials, like fruits. Level four is living organic organisms.”

“The rats.”

“The rats,” Afnan agreed. She looked up at Sab. “You think this is our tomato ‘porter?”

“Seems like it.”

“Let’s get back to Amber.”

“First-name basis, is it? Afnan, you old lady killer.”

Afnan sent a fizzle of fire at Sab’s head, who ducked away laughing. “I’m gonna burn your hair off.”

“I’m already bald!”

“Other head.”

Sab’s face was horrified as Afnan slipped past him to the hallway.

“Lock up behind you. This might be an investigation scene soon.”

“Afnan! I thought we were friends! Partners!”

“Lock the damn door!”

“We were bonding! We’re practically blood!”

“No one could possibly mistake my pale behind as being related to you, Sab. We have very different colour schemes. For one thing, everyone in my family has red hair. Yours was, if I recall, black and coiled quite tightly.”

“Adopted blood!”

Afnan didn’t respond and Sab turned and almost walked into her. She stood frozen, staring forward and up. Sab followed her gaze.

“You can leave me the key.”

His skin crawling with an oddly light feeling - awe, Sab identified, the same awe he’d felt staring up at Al’Akir the Windlord, the air itself solidified into a primeval elemental of immeasurable power. Inscrutable, his rules of engagement seemingly arbitrary, so vast and wild that Sab had frozen in fear and awe. Much like he did upon seeing Queen Luciana.

“They key,” Afnan hissed, and Sab handed it to her. She snatched it from him and, bowing low at the waist, extended her hand to offer the key to the Queen. “Your Majesty,” she said. “It’s an honour.”

“Likewise, Glory Seekers.” The Queen’s deep voice reverberated in Sab’s ears. He stepped aside, watching mutely as she strode forward, her hips and shoulders rolling like those of a prowling Stranglethorn tiger. “You can go,” she said, a laugh lilting her voice. “I’ll lock up behind.”

“Your Majesty,” Afnan said, rising from her bow and yanking Sab along behind her as she fled down the hall.

“Afnan,” Sab said weakly. “Afnan, that was Queen Luciana.”

“You idiot,” she hissed, slapping his shoulder. “You didn’t even look down! You stared right at her, not bowing, not speaking, nothing.” When she saw his wide eyes, she quieted. “You spooked?”

“You felt that, right?” he asked in a small voice. “That... that.” He waved down the hall, in the general direction of Mordu’s apartment.

“Yeah.” Afnan worked her jaw. It popped on the left side, the leftover from being broken by an ogre’s mace years ago. “That sort of thing... you get used to it.”

“How can you get used to that?” he asked. His voice dropped to a whisper as he stared down the hall. “How can you even know what that is?”

“You hear those rumours about her?” Afnan asked.

“The ones about the Ghost Wolf? Who hasn’t?”

“They must be true. That’s the only thing I can think of to explain... what we felt from her. And that sort of thing, once you’re exposed to it more, you get used to it.”

“It’s... big.”

“It’s massive. It’s so massive you can’t see the ends, like the sky. But you get used to it. You learn how to look down at the ground and keep walking.”

“Shit. Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“She is really tall.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I shit a bit.”

“There’s a public washroom on the first floor. You can get cleaned up down there.”

\--


	9. Chapter 9

Anduin looked over his shoulder when he heard the door open. It was almost silent, as was Luciana as she closed it slowly behind her. She turned the handle so it wouldn’t click when it shut.

“How did it go?” Anduin murmured. He watched her as she moved across the room, dropping her cloak and boots behind her. When she reached him she leaned down to kiss him softly, and he smiled.

“Went fine. Found the other end of the scent. Tomatoes everywhere, bathroom was clean enough for surgery, heat runes were off. Someone left in a real hurry. And heavy, heavy magic. The tingly kind you get when you go through a portal. Mostly in the sitting room with the radio, tuned to Stormwind News Hourly. They were talking about us and the weird SI:7 movements in the city. Apparently people still don’t know I’m Goldrinn’s scion.”

“You’d think the snarling would give it away. Maybe they think you’re actually a worgen?”

“Ha-ha,” she deadpanned, giving him another soft, slow kiss. “Anyway,” she said, leaning back so she could see his face. He watched as her eyes tracked across his features, from his neck to his nose to his chest and shoulders and back up and between his eyes. “It’s our tomato mageling. I’m sure. The bed had the same human smell as the regenerating tomato, and the magic had the same feel.”

“Who else was around?”

“I met with Jill and Vic’s dogs on the way up. She found a bit of the scent at a corner table on the second floor of the _Recluse_. They must’ve tried their hand at eavesdropping up there. Some of our own guards hang out there off duty, makes sense to set up shop where you can hear ‘em. I met with a couple of the SI:7 consultants. Some interesting tidbits we can look into later, but nothing on our tomato mage. As for the apartment, Shaw’s contracts from the Seekers were there already finishing up. Think I scared them.”

“You are kind of scary.”

“I think the bald one... pooped his pants,” she said, looking up just as the twins came running into the room. Anduin grinned at her, hearing her self-correction. She kissed his forehead hastily before dancing away from his chair to make room for the boys. Throwing her arms wide, she greeted them eagerly and swept them into a hug. She kissed each of them several times as they screamed and giggled excitedly. “How are my little ones?” she crowed, picking them up, one sitting on each arm and braced against her shoulders. She stood easily despite their noticeable weight. As though they were two feather pillows, hardly any effort required to hold them. “You’ve been good for your Papa?”

“We have been good,” Alaric confirmed.

“We’re always good,” Bolvar added sagely.

“Almost always,” Luciana said, grinning suddenly. Bolvar’s hand gently touched her jaw scars and she turned and caught one of his fingers between her teeth. Anduin saw, as he sometimes did, the delicate control she could exercise over her body’s strength. He’d seen her bite through all manner of things that human jaws and teeth couldn’t normally pierce - wood, leather armour, even metal cuffs they’d been experimenting with. But Bolvar was never in any danger with his mother.

Bolvar squealed at her toothy smile around his finger and yanked his hand back, smiling and laughing. “Mama, you’re gross,” he said.

“A little bit, yeah.” Her voice was light and fond, lilting in a way Anduin recognized. She had a certain set of tones she used when addressing children and young teens, a certain way she held herself to make them feel like she was hovering to protect rather than to dominate. She didn’t even seem aware of it sometimes. Anduin had, at first, been envious of her ease with children. The twins had bonded with her much more quickly despite her absences. But he was proud of her for it more than anything.

“It’s getting close to bed time for you two,” Anduin said, getting up from his chair to limp to Luciana. He hid his wince and the limp almost perfectly, despite the suddenness of the pain in his hip and knee. Her eyes flicked down to his knee, up to his hip, then to his face. The pupils were slightly wider than necessary in the well-lit room, her face blank in a manner he recognized as predatory. She saw weaknesses. She was bred and trained for it. He smiled at her. _It’s nothing._

She tilted her head half an inch to the right. _It’s something._

He wrapped his arms around her, under the twins, and kissed first Bolvar’s cheek and then Alaric’s. They threw their arms around his neck, almost unbalancing themselves, but Luciana adjusted for it easily. “I love you, Papa!” Bolvar said.

“I love you!” Alaric said. Their voices echoed each other disjointedly.

“I love you both very much,” Anduin replied. “And I think it’s time to go to bed. We had a lot of fun today, so you both have to rest up tonight so you can have energy for tomorrow. I think you’re going to the horse stables with Lamellan and Velara.”

Bolvar gasped dramatically. “Night elves,” he said with a voice full of awe.

“They’re called kaldorei,” Alaric said.

“I’ll put them to bed,” Luciana said, turning to kiss Anduin from behind Alaric. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Thirty minutes,” he corrected.

“Fifteen and a half.”

“It’s a bet.”

She grinned crookedly, her face pulled into a snarling mess because of her scars. Anduin felt a smile curling his mouth. A familiar warm pressure rose in his chest. Light, he just loved her so much. Sometimes he didn’t know what to do with himself.

\--


	10. Chapter 10

Anduin and Luciana stood together, staring at a magically projected imaging and audio feed. Mordu sat at the end of a questioning table, Shaw standing at the other end. “Doesn’t look like a prankster,” Luciana mused.

“Not really,” Anduin agreed. “Too panicky.”

“Didn’t she... they... give themselves up?”

“Yeah. Said they couldn’t take the pressure.”

 _“It was an accident!”_ the teenaged mage student cried.

_“Like you keep saying. Why a tomato? Why the King’s pocket?”_

_“I was practicing and I got distracted! Some idiot was banging around with furniture on the other floor, I don’t know.”_

“I’d bang you on that furniture,” Luciana murmured, glancing at Anduin.

“You’re a degenerate.”

“Yeah.” She only smirked crookedly, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Anduin scoffed and rolled his eyes, purposefully overdramatic. He nodded at the video feed. “You don’t think Shaw’s being a little too rough on the kid?”

Luciana shrugged. She took her left hand out of her pocket, reaching over to hold Anduin’s hand. He twined his fingers with hers without a word. “If the kid starts crying he’ll back off. We all know Mordu’s telling the truth. It was an accident, like... they... keep saying. They’re not malicious. Just... easily startled. Like a rabbit. Or a deer.”

“Deers freeze. They ran.”

“They booked it like a bat outta fel-fucked Hell. Like a hounded jackrabbit.”

“They must have panicked when they realized where they sent the tomato.”

“Seems that way.”

_“It was an accident! I don’t know what happened with the magic, okay? I’m a student. I don’t know. That’s why I was practicing with non-living organic materials. If I’d been with the rats then it would’ve been a rat in his pocket. I’m sorry, okay?”_

_“Why did you run?”_ Shaw demanded. _“Criminals run from the law.”_

_“I panicked! People do that!”_

_“Why did you panic?”_

_“Because you’re scary! Your people are scary! You sent_ Afnan! _The_ Siegebreaker! _Who wouldn’t panic, seeing her outside their apartment?!”_

“They’ve got a fair point,” Luciana said.

Anduin gave her hand a squeeze. He saw her chin raise slightly, a smile at the corner of her mouth. “I’ll finish sorting this out. Shaw will recall his people.”

“I’ll fix up the Royal and City Guard rotations.”

“I love you,” Anduin murmured.

Luciana looked at him, eyes wide, face blank. Open. “I love you,” she said quietly.

Anduin smiled slowly. Her eyes were intense and he looked away, to the video projection. He’d seen her, she knew that, and that was enough. She squeezed his hand for a moment. He rubbed his thumb along the outside of her forefinger.

_“Like I told the last four people - I was practicing teleportation with the tomatoes so I wouldn’t hurt one of those poor rats. I was in the sitting room. I chose tomatoes because they’re really cheap to buy in bulk and you can cook with them afterwards, and if I get one stuck in the wall, it’s not an unpleasant smell to deal with for the next three and a half years. I was practicing, and just as I started to let the tomato pull through the Nether to the destination point in the kitchen, the bowl of tomatoes, someone on the other floor made a bang and distracted me. I didn’t know where the tomato ended up. Okay? I’m sorry!”_

_“Why the King? You must have been thinking of him, otherwise the tomato would have ended up somewhere else. Why him?”_

_“Because he’s the King? Who doesn’t think of our own King?”_

_“While you’re practicing teleportation? Were you planning something on him involving the teleportation wards in the castle?”_

_“What? No! The Queen would kill and eat me if I tried something like that!”_

Luciana snorted and laughed.

_“Then why were you thinking of him?”_

“Oh, Light,” she groaned. “Hold on. I can’t let this... Hold on, my light,” she said, kissing Anduin’s cheek before slipping out of the room. A few seconds later she appeared on the video feed.

 _“Leave it, Shaw,”_ she said, her voice slightly tinny in the feedback from the projector. Shaw easily and immediately stepped away from the table, removing himself from the space Luciana had claimed. _“Mordu, right?”_

 _“Yes, Your Majesty._ ” Their voice was quiet, full of awe and reverence. Their head was down, but their eyes were up, trained on Luciana. She did cut an impressive figure.

_“You were practicing teleportation on tomatoes instead of the rats?”_

_“Yes, Your Majesty.”_

_“And you intended fully to send the tomato to the others in the kitchen directly opposite your own sitting room, in your apartment?”_

_“Yes, Your Majesty.”_

_“And, through a stroke of bad luck, you were distracted by a loud noise from an apartment on the other floor, sending the tomato through a wormhole misdirected because of your distraction?”_

_“Yes, Your Majesty.”_

_“And it ended up in Anduin’s pocket, because you had a thought about him while practicing your teleportation.”_

_“Y-yes, Your Majesty.”_

Luciana turned to her left and made a cutting motion with her hand. The feed shut off. A few moments later, Shaw joined Anduin, stood silently facing the blank screen, and crossed his arms. He reached up absently to rub his goatee, grey at the edges.

“What’s she doing?” Anduin asked.

“I’m not sure, Your Grace. She dismissed me.”

“What do you think of Mordu?”

“I think that they are very unlucky. Too hapless to plan this sort of thing.”

“What did their instructors say?”

“They have the most potential for portals any one of them has seen in years. It’s not that they’re powerful, per say, it’s just that they’re very skilled in that one field.”

“How would they mess up teleporting a tomato if they’re so skilled?”

“Anxiety.”

“I see. Do you think it’s disordered?”

“Might be. They come from a troubled home, mother walked out and took two siblings, left Mordu and one other with their father. Not abusive, just absent. Mordu probably developed some kind of perfectionist complex to try and draw the father back.”

“To exert some kind of control,” Anduin supplied. He sighed. “Luciana’s going to have a field day with this one.”

“In six years they’ll be in a ‘porter in the Royal Mage Society.”

“Maybe.” Anduin smiled fondly.

“... Your Grace, may I ask a question?”

“You may.”

“Your father didn’t tell me much about your betrothal to the Queen until it was time to move in to the Amadeus manor. Even then, he didn’t give me much. Only what I needed to protect her siblings until she was distanced enough that assassins wouldn’t be interested for her sake. From what I understood, Lord Varian chose her for you, to compliment your abilities and to satiate his own need for your protection. It was also because she was easy for Lord Varian to manipulate, as he understood her as a warrior and could draw on her weakening family ties to shift her loyalty to another family unit.”

“What’s your question?”

“Who chose her?”

Anduin slipped his hands into his pockets. They felt cold in the absence of Luciana’s heat. “I did,” Anduin replied. “I chose Luciana. And she turned around and chose me.”

“I see.”

“Do you have any other questions?”

“Just the one. Do you really think she’d try to adopt this kid, too?”

“She already did. The moment she left this room, she’d made the decision. Maybe even before that.”

Shaw was going to respond, but Luciana’s return interrupted it. “Mordu’s going back to their apartment. They’ll be back in class by tomorrow, where they belong.”

“And the adoption papers?” Shaw joked. His face immediately became inscrutable.

“I’m having a clerk bring them to my office,” Luciana responded, grinning and lightly slapping Shaw’s back. “But seriously, this kid has some skill.”

“The Royal Mage Society?” Anduin asked dryly, sharing a look with Shaw.

“Maybe. We’ll see.” Luciana’s gaze shifted from Shaw to Anduin. “That predictable, am I?”

“Mama’s predictable,” Anduin replied. “Shaw, see to your operations. Normalize them as soon as possible. We’ll move past this quickly and return to our regular.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Dismissed.”

Shaw disappeared when Anduin was distracted by Luciana’s approach. She set her chin on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist, sighing and then settling against him. Content, like a purring cat.

“What did Mordu say to you about their thoughts of me?” Anduin said, smiling, pressing his cheek to Luciana’s head.

“They’ve got a teensie widdle crush on you.”

“What?” Anduin pulled away, staring at Lucy with an expression of incredulity. 

“Mordu is a fifteen year old from a troubled home who has a tiny little crush on their King, who happens to be Ultimate Dad Junior.”

“Who’s Ultimate Dad Senior?”

“Varian,” she said, as though it were obvious.

“I see.” Anduin chuckled, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers. She kissed him, teasing, and he laid his hands on either side of her neck and kissed her, drawing it out until she hummed. His chest against hers, Anduin felt the vibrations of her sonorous voice and smiled. “Then you’re the Ultimate Mom?”

“I adopted Stormwind. What did you do?”

“Apparently I adopted a thirty-something forest bear with an attitude.”

Luciana laughed loudly, grabbed his face, and kissed him soundly.

 _“Can I go home now?”_ sounded faintly from the projector. _“Hello? I’ve got a lot of tomatoes to cook before they go bad...”_

“Shit,” Luciana swore, tearing away from Anduin and hurrying from the room. His laughter followed her down the hall.


End file.
